Page 66 of Letting Go
“What the fuck do you want? And why would you tell my wife shit? Leave her alone, she didn’t do anything.”
“No, she didn’t do anything that we’re aware of as of right now, that would be you, Nam,” I tell him as I pull out the photographs in the folder that Nikki gave us when we arrived. Luna is not the only girl Nam was cheating on his wife with, so we were able to easily find photographs of him with other women while he had been under surveillance of other agents building a case against his organization for suspected criminal activity. Luna helped us with our investigation, so I don’t want to throw her under the bus to Nam if possible. I slowly lay each photograph down and by the time I lay the seventh one on the table, Nam looks like he may be feeling a little nauseous.
“My wife can’t see these. What do you want?” Nam grits out, at least he’s no longer yelling at us.
“It’s pretty straight forward. Let’s play a little game, Nam,” I tell him as a small smile spreads acrossmy face.
“What game?” he asks as he looks up from the photographs of him in various stages of undress and sexual activity with women that are clearly not his five-foot-three wife.
“It’s a classic game of let’s make a deal, Nam. Do you feel like playing, or would you like me to drive over to 18412 South Silver Pines Boulevard and ring the doorbell to speak with your wife?” I ask with a cocky grin knowing that I have him right where I want him.
“What you can do is forget my address right the fuck now,” Nam replies as he clenches his jaw.
“Hey, you know, if I don’t need to go over there, I’m happy to forget the address, along with your wife’s phone number and license plate number,” I say as I hold his gaze. I’m not afraid of this guy and he’s going to learn that I’ve danced with much bigger bulls and I always get my way.
“Although, Kelly, I must admit, I’m surprised his wife drives that red SUV. From her file, I was expecting a white or black vehicle.” Kelly looks at me to hum in agreement and nods before looking across the table with his signature shit eating grin on his face.
“What do you want to know?” Nam asks.
“I want to know how you put the hit on Kimberly Nguyen,” I tell the lowlife. “I want to know how you contacted The Susurro. I want to know every step you took in putting the hit out on Kenny Scott, and any other information you know about The Susurro. And after that? You’re going to help us contact him again.” I hold up my hand before Nam can protest. “And if you don’t, then I can and will have agents at your house within …” I pause to look at my watch for dramatic effect, “… twenty-two minutes.”
To be honest, I don’t actually know how far away his house is from where we are, but I find it more entertaining and helpful to be specific in my threats. Looking at his face though, I might needto get this guy a bucket. “Nam? Are you feeling okay there? You look a little peaked right now.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nam mumbles.
“Oh, really? So, you’re trying to tell us that this isn’t you …” Kelly pulls out a photograph of a screenshot from video surveillance of the brawl between Mr. Tran and Mr. Smith. “That’s you on the right with the bleeding lip, isn’t it? You’re fighting Mr. Van Tran; he’s the one about to land a sucker punch to your gut in this picture. I saw the video, and he really packs a punch. This all happened outside of the nightclub Heat in Cleveland less than one week before Mr. Tran’s significant other Ms. Nguyen was sadly murdered by a sniper.”
Nam gives himself away when he smiles at the mention of Ms. Nguyen’s murder. I bet he’s a shit poker player between his obvious tells and anger issues. “It’s too bad he couldn’t take care of his own girlfriend, you know though, that sounds like something that would happen to Van,” Nam smugly comments as he shrugs.
“Did I forget to mention that we have video of you threatening him saying and I quote, ‘I will cut down everything and anything you love, Van. You are a piece of shit and I’m coming for you. I’ll first take away everything you care about starting with your whore girlfriend,’” I tell him.
“That’s just a coincidence. We were mad at each other, we both said things,” Nam tries to dismiss the connection, but we aren’t quite done.
“When you were brought in for questioning last night, we expedited a warrant on your phone and email accounts. You should really get better about using a burner, that’s like criminal 101 stuff, Nam,” I tell him as I pull out the folder Mason put together and hand the top sheet to Kelly.
I know Nam wants to see everything we have in our folders, but he’ll only see what I want him to see. The lack of control isonly going to amplify his anger. “Agent Shannon, it’s your turn for show and tell. Will you please read the highlighted text for the class?”
“At 11:52 p.m. on this specific day, the phone number associated with Mr. Nam Smith received a text that said, ‘contract fulfilled.’ To which someone with this phone responded with a text that said, ‘It always sucks to be Van but today really sucks. You are worth every penny of the $250k. I’ll be in touch with future gigs.’” Kelly reads.
“And Agent Shannon, what date was that text message sent at 11:52 p.m.?” I ask as I keep my eyes on Nam, who now has beads of sweat running down his forehead and the side of his neck.
“It was sent on July 6th, 2024,” Kelly answers.
“Now Agent Shannon, I think that is very interesting timing, especially when you consider the fact that Mr. Van Tran’s girlfriend was killed at 11:45 p.m. on July 6th, 2024, just seven minutes before this text message exchange,” I say knowing we have him in a corner. “So, let’s review, okay, Nam? We already have you on charges of conspiracy to commit murder and potentially even murder charges since Ms. Nguyen was indeed murdered. We only connected you to all of this within the last twenty-four hours or so, so I’m sure we will find even more to charge you with in addition to what we’ve already found. If you want to have any chance of being offered any kind of deal, you need to cooperate with us right now.”
“My wife is going to kill me if she sees those photographs,” Nam says to himself as he crosses his arm and looks up at the ceiling.
“Well, I’m not married but you should probably do what you can to prevent her from getting one hell of a rude wake-up call this morning, right?” Kelly asks like that’s the obvious answer. “And that’s before you realize she may also be someone that if, I don’tknow, say her husband broke her heart, she may call her beloved and well-connected uncle.”
Nam’s face pales even more at the mention of his wife’s uncle. Glaring at me, Nam asks, “What do you want?”
“Two things.” I hold up one finger. “One, I want you to tell me everything you know about The Susurro, including any and all interactions you had with them.” I pause and hold up a second finger. “And two, I want you to contact him for another hit but doing so with our tech so we can trace and locate the individual behind the sniper scope.”
“Do you want a fucking pony too?” Nam blurts out in rage.
“No, I already own plenty of horses. Those two things will do just fine, but thanks for the offer,” I reply without acknowledging his outburst.
“And what do I get?” Nam asks.
